Cardiff in the Sun

Thanks to Caroline Bartle-Busby for the photo

I wasn’t feeling confident going to the Cardiff half marathon yesterday. My training hadn’t gone well, my pace had began to improve but then at the start of April I had three days of hitting the pop. I thought I had enough time to get over it but my times got steadily worse. To the extent that on Tuesday my running pace was an appalling 11.09 p/m. I felt drained. I’d been aware that my iron levels at been pretty low so I started taking tablets, and the night before I drank a pint of stout. I thought it was worth a punt, and indeed a pint.

I could have done with an extra hour in bed with the clocks going forward, but it did force me to get my arse into gear. I dropped a change of clothes at the Hilton gym, mooched about then got into the white pen ready for the start gun.

BANG! We shuffled off, and then we were actually running. On my longer training runs I’d noticed that I started to get slower around mile 5 so I decided to change my nutrition plan. I usually wait until mile 6/7 (half way) until i start eating my jelly beans and protein bar, so this time I decided to nibble my way through after mile 1. I started well and the first mile came and went in a blink as I ran up North road. I settled into a comfortable pace and did think it was manageable, but you never know until a bit later.

I thought that I’d be good when I hit mile 4 which is where there’s a hill leading to Penarth which normally causes a bit of a drag but it didn’t cause me too many problems. I had thought prior to the race that I was just going to enjoy it and not chase a time. Having said that I had set a pace on my runner’s watch and managed to pretty much hit it. I had my drinks with me but cause it was a larvely sunny day when there was a water station I’d take some and pour it over my head. I did this around the mile 4 mark and a spectator yelled out “Come on Darren!” then when I passed I heard her say “Ah, bless.”.

I felt good running along the barrage and enjoying the seascape. There was a slight change to the route around Cardiff Bay which was fine, the sun was shinning and the support from the crowds was amazing. Saw a few of my mates on the route which was great and a real boost. I thought around mile 8 that I’d start to slow down which I did, but not hugely, which brought me into my manor aka Roath. The odd thing was that for pretty much all of Richmond road I was on my own. There were no runners around me, and it was only when I got onto Albany road that I could see other runners on the horizon, it felt really weird, but it meant I got some rousing support as I ran through Roath. The route around Roath Park is always a grind cause it’s miles 10 - 12 when you start running out of juice, but I felt pretty strong and the lake looked stunning with the sun mottled on the water.

Mile 12 is always a fucker, cause it’s right on a hill, but seeing my mate Steve Dixon on the sidelines helped bolster me and then it was just the grind of the last mile and a bit. Before I knew it I was turning the corner for a sprint finish.

i’d said to myself that I’d be happy with a time of 1:45 and I actually got in at 1:43 so was pleased about that. I ran an average of 7:50 miles which is the fastest I’ve run for a number of months. Along with a runner t-shirt, medal and banana I was handed a can of something, dunno what it was except after one sip I realised that it was pure evil and put it in the bin. After a dip in the Hilton pool it was off to celebrate with Mexican food, friends and cocktails.

A great run, which even after this meaning races taught me a few things, but not ‘don’t do another run.’.